Last week so many people wrote in with amazing ideas in the Spindlers Writing Challenge. Now that we've seen some of them, I thought I'd give a sneak peek of the real book! Enjoy!
One night when Liza went to bed, Patrick was her chubby, stubby, candy-grubbing and pancake-loving younger brother, who irritated her and amused her both, and the next morning, when she woke up, he was not.
She could not describe the difference. He looked the same, and was wearing the same pair of ratty space-alien pajamas, with the same fat toe sticking out of the hole in the left foot of his red socks, and he came down the stairs exactly the same way the real Patrick would have done: bump, bump, bump, sliding on his rump.
But he was not the same.
In fact, he was quite, quite different.
It was something in the way he looked at her: It was as though someone had reached behind his eyes and wrung away all the sparkle, leaving only a blank gaze. He walked quietly--too quietly--to the table, sat nicely in his chair, and placed a napkin on his lap.
The real Patrick never used a napkin.